Let's Take a Walk
by hbcooper
Summary: Gambit, accompanied by his X-Factor teammates Polaris and Quicksilver, wrangles an invitation to a black-tie gala hosted by Tony Stark. Things get interesting for the Cajun when he discovers who else is on the guest list. Romy.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Short little story, just for fun, because I enjoyed writing Polaris, Gambit, and Quicksilver together so much, though Lorna and Pietro only make brief appearances.

Truthfully, I'm not a huge Avengers fan, I have only read bits and pieces, mainly Rogue's run in _Uncanny Avengers_ , so forgive me if my Avengers' details are not all dead on. I'm sure I take a lot of liberties in this story with the setup of Stark Towers and how Tony runs things, but it's all in good sport. This takes place somewhere off-panel around _Uncanny Avengers_ 5 or 6, Volume 1, Rogue has control of her powers, with no Simon in her head, and Serval Industries' X-Factor is still a thing.

Rated PG-13 for language and barely suggestive innuendo. As always, I write my characters with minimal accents, feel free to apply the appropriate level of New Orleans or Mississippi in your own head. Enjoy!

 **Chapter One**

"Hello, sir. Welcome to Stark Towers."

Remy LeBeau stepped lithely from the limousine, thankful the dark sunglasses he wore shielded his eyes from the explosion of camera flashes that greeted him. He nodded his thanks to their driver and snapped smooth the collar of his tuxedo jacket. The mutant thief and current member of the superhero team X-Factor was impressed. Really impressed. The crowded Manhattan streets were lined with stretch limousines and security details that snaked through the skyscrapers as far as he could see. Throngs of spectators and paparazzi pushed against barricades rimming the edge of a well-lit plush red carpet pathway that ended at the entrance to Stark Towers. The futuristic structure was spotlighted against the night sky, its lights a shimmering reflection of every building on the island. Small groups of the elaborately dressed slowly made their way forward, pausing and posing for fans and photographers.

Turning back towards the darkened interior of the vehicle, Remy gallantly stretched out his hand. "Ready, chere?" he grinned and bowed slightly.

"You're damn right I am!" Remy's teammate Lorna Dane excitedly clasped his hand, but her sheepish smile told him that she was grateful for his assistance. The voluminous skirt of the crimson gown she wore was gorgeous, but difficult to maneuver, and had gotten stuck in the doorway of the limo when they had left their hotel. He could see the look of apprehension on her face at a repeat performance in front of the cameras. Remy stooped lower in his bow and swept his hand down the side of her skirt, skillfully freeing it from the vehicle. An upbringing in New Orleans had seen him present at more than a few masquerade balls; the man knew his way around outlandish gowns. Lorna smiled gratefully at him as he stood to his full height. Remy smiled back, admiring the stunning view of his squad leader in her formal wear.

Her gown was strapless, gathered at the waist by a small bow in the front. The bodice was fairly simple and fitted, made from a stiff chiffon, but that was where its simplicity ended, as from there it spread out in an enormous floor length skirt covered in tulle netting, the skirt three times as wide as Lorna, rustling noisily with her every move. The vivid color contrasted sharply with the young mutant's long neon green hair, tonight twisted into an elegant ballerina bun on top of her head. She took a step away from the limo and smoothed her skirt nervously. Her eyes widened and trailed over the waiting crowd.

"Stark goes all out, I guess. I feel like I'm at the Oscars!"

"Well, you may end up on the worst dressed list if you don't fix this…" Lorna's half-brother and fellow teammate emerged from the limo behind her. "Your slip is showing back here." _Pietro looks bored already,_ Remy thought. A side effect of his power apparently. Quicksilver wasn't much older than Lorna, but his hair was a prematurely shining silver. The hair, combined with his permanently surly disposition, made Remy think of Pietro Maximoff as a grumpy old man.

Lorna twisted and looked over each shoulder frantically. "Pietro, fix it, please!" she hissed, unable to reach the bottom of the dress herself.

"Oh for the love of…!" Pietro grumbled and bent to finesse the train. "This is ridiculous. This is not in my job description. Why you insisted on wearing such a tremendously impractical gown…!"

"Impractical! This is Tony Stark's Costume Gala! If anything, I might be _under-dressed_!" Lorna indignantly yanked the train of her dress away from her brother. A petite brunette in a simple blue sheath gown holding a clipboard motioned for them to begin their walk down the red carpet.

Standing and straightening his own bow tie, Pietro rolled his eyes. "I freely admit that I do not get the concept of this event. A public superhero throws what he calls a costume gala, but from what I can see, no one is wearing a costume. We're wearing tuxedos and ball gowns."

Lorna took hold of one of Pietro's arms and one of Remy's as they began to walk the red carpet towards the entrance of Stark Towers. Remy lowered his sunglasses and winked at the brunette, the sight of his red on black eyes nearly causing her to drop her clipboard. "It's Tony's biggest charity event, and each year has a different theme people are expected to incorporate into their outfits. Think of this year's dress-code as superhero couture. If you take a look around at everyone here and inside, most of them won't be wearing what you would wear to a normal black tie event, their outfit will have some little nod to superhero costumes on them, say, like a cape, or a mask. Heroes with a public identity and Tony's other famous friends come and mingle with normal people who have made a donation to Tony's charities. Their donation gives them the chance to stand shoulder to shoulder with heroes and movie stars! I'm sure the black tie nod to superhero costumes was the Wasp's idea." She smiled broadly and the three paused for a skinny looking nerd who was a photographer for the Daily Bugle. "I can't wait to see what Janet is wearing! I'm sure it will be fabulous!"

"Fabulous? If I know Janet, I am sure atrocious will be a better adjective," Pietro scoffed.

Remy snickered and squeezed Lorna's arm with his other hand. "Are all of the Avengers coming to this thing? I thought it was a just few public heroes rubbing elbows with New York's rich and famous so Stark could fleece their pockets. I mean, some of them got to be out saving the world, right?"

"He's hardly fleecing them. This is for charity, not Stark's corporate endeavors. People pay money to interact with celebrities and heroes, but I'm not sure all of the Avengers are here…I assumed Alex's Unity Squad wouldn't be because of their recent publicity troubles…but maybe Stark wants them here anyway? More heroes, more money from the donors." Lorna struck a pose and the photographer motioned for Remy and Pietro to stand back so he could snap a solo picture of the young woman.

Pietro stepped closer to Remy. "Pathetic. You didn't come just to spy on your ex, did you?" he whispered. Remy sighed and ignored him as they continued their tedious walk towards the towers. Most of the photographers seemed less than enthused to take their picture, instead focusing on the shapely woman in the red dress in front of them. Remy was more than happy to let her have the spotlight, she positively glowed under the flash of the cameras, radiant and beautiful. Remy understood that a good showing was invaluable PR for their fledgling superhero team, as unlike more clandestine operations, X-Factor was working through the auspices of a corporation, Serval Industries, owned by one Harrison Snow. This was treading new ground for Gambit. Growing up as a member of the New Orleans' Thieves' Guild it had always been in his best interests to keep a low profile, but in recent years he seemed to be failing miserably at keeping his image out of the public sphere. He knew when he joined X-Factor that he would sacrifice a lot of his privacy, but better to not go out of his way to make the Daily Bugle social page. Most of the Avengers seemed more than happy to ditch the concept of a secret identity, and the world didn't penalize them for it, embracing them as heroes. Far cry from life as an X-Man, as a mutant, hated and feared and hunted for what you were. A lousy double standard he was hoping X-Factor could change.

Lorna rejoined them when they neared the entrance. "I honestly didn't think to call Alex to see if his squad would be here, not that we really have talked lately. Can you say _awk-ward_?" she laughed uncomfortably and turned to Remy. "Did you call Rogue?"

Remy shrugged and reached into the inner pocket of his tux, handing their embossed invitations to the smiling blonde at the tower's entrance. _Does Stark only employ beautiful ladies?_ Remy thought to himself, drinking in her bubbling cleavage and tanned skin. Not usually his type, but didn't hurt to take in the scenery. Two mountains of muscle that were apparently security guards flanked the woman. "Slipped my mind, cherie," he said. Pietro snorted, and Remy raised an eyebrow and burned a glare through his sunglasses at the speedster.

"All right, gentlemen," Lorna chastised, "let's behave. Serval Industries pulled a lot of strings to get us in tonight. The least we can do is make a good impression." She took their arms again and they entered the massive lobby, joining the hundreds of people swirling through the open space.

"Indeed," Pietro raised his chin and surveyed the crowd. He dropped Lorna's arm and tugged on the sleeves of his tuxedo. "Time to fraternize with the human elite. My heart quivers in anticipation. Don't wait up..." He waved and disappeared into a sea of tulle and tuxedos.

"Pietro!" Lorna called after him over the rush of noise. He was gone in an instant, swallowed from view. Remy gripped her arm tighter and maneuvered her and her dress into the ballroom. The space was as large as a football field, the ceiling easily four stories high, and a wall of windows lined the outer edge, draped with creamy swags of luxurious fabric covering strings of what appeared to be fancy Christmas tree lights. The floor was an expensive looking marble, so highly polished Remy wondered if he would be able to catch a glimpse up someone's skirt on the floor.

Remy released Lorna's arm and pocketed his sunglasses. "I'm going in search of some champagne, see who's here. Make sure to mingle a little bit with the squares, cherie, make us look good. I'll find you later." He nodded slightly at her, smiling to himself as she looked around the room, eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape.

"Remy!" he laughed at the slight note of panic in her voice. "You're leaving me? Don't you dare leave me! I can hardly move in this dress!" He waved and melted into the background, there one second, gone the next.

Remy chuckled, gliding through the crowded ballroom. Lorna was a nice girl, but he wanted to see what else the room could offer him in female company. Hot female company. The thief in him took note of each piece of jewelry, each expensive pair of shoes while he circled the room. Handfuls of moneyed New Yorkers decked out in Armani tuxes and heavily embellished gowns were sprinkled amongst heroes he had fought beside and against. Each comrade he recognized seemed surrounded by an entourage of 'normals' all oohing and ahhhing over the super-powered individual. Not how Remy wanted to spend his night. Their incarnation of X-Factor was fairly new to the scene; he hoped he could coast through the evening without being recognized. Let Lorna and Pietro do the PR work, he had come to flirt and drink, but he was kidding himself if he denied who he was really looking for, why he had really come.

An orchestra was tucked into the corner, and he skirted the edge of a small parqueted dance floor full of swirling dresses. Servers effortlessly maneuvered trays of hors d'oeurves and flutes of champagne through the throngs of people. Remy snatched a glass and downed it in one smooth drink as he spotted the man, Tony Stark himself, in a white dinner jacket and black tie, surrounded by star-struck donors that all laughed in unison at one of Stark's joke. Tony's right hand gal, Pepper Potts, was in her usual place at his side. Pepper's silky white column dress had thick black stripes running up the sides of the garment, making her waist appear incredibly tiny. It reminded Remy of those optical illusion drawings that looked like a candlestick or a face depending on how you blurred your eyes. A black cape was draped across one of her shoulders. _Ah-ha_ , Remy thought. _Superhero couture is starting to make a little more sense_ , though he wasn't sure what Lorna's nod to superheroes was with her dress. _Maybe her green hair is enough of an accessory?_ He grabbed another glass of champagne, deposited his empty, and sauntered towards Stark and company.

"Bonsoir, M'sieu Stark, Mademoiselle Potts." Remy raised his glass at the startled Avenger.

Stark's forced smile was all porcelain veneers. "You? Who let you in? Did we let him in?" He inclined his head at Pepper, his representative in all things practical. "Should we count the silverware?" In his few interactions with the trillionaire genius, Remy had been left with the impression that Stark drank way too much coffee. He was almost more hyper than Pietro, which was really saying something. The man needed to take a page from the Big Easy and learn to relax a little.

Pepper smiled graciously at Remy, who bowed and kissed her hand. "Mr. LeBeau is here representing Harrison Snow's Serval Industries. I believe the team has taken on the name of X-Factor?"

Remy nodded at the petite red-head. "Oui, cherie." Pepper was a beautiful woman, no doubt about it, but a little too business for his taste. Still, she put up with Stark's crazy. You had to respect that.

"Oh." Tony pursed his lips. "Well. Welcome. Eat. Drink. Be merry. Pepper, tell security to keep eyes on this one. LeBeau, listen to me closely, this is very important. You are not to go wandering around my tower. Do you understand? Stay at least…fifty feet away from the labs. I've upgraded security since the last time you were here. Lots of noises and alarms. Lasers. In fact, now that I think about it, everything but this room is off limits. Well, maybe the restrooms…" He took on a distracted look, his eyebrows drawn together. "No. On second thought, not even the restrooms…"

"Upgraded security? That sounds like a challenge," Remy smiled and winked at Pepper. "Excuse me, folks. Have a wonderful evening."

"Seriously, stay away from my lab, LeBeau. Fifty feet away! LeBeau! I am not joking…!" Remy laughed to himself, happy to ruffle Tony Stark's feathers. He was pretty sure there were few people who could, he hoped Pepper had gotten a kick out of it.

Weaving back through the crowd, he tried to ignore the jewelry and look for the superhero couture touches. The dresses were all shapes and shades, and most, like Lorna said, with a modest nod to superhero costumes like a cape or mask. A few were dressed decidedly more avant-garde, but none, he soon discovered, more so than Janet Van Dyne, the Wasp. Remy wasn't sure how he had missed the diminutive founding member of the Avengers on his first trip through the crowd. Her gown, mounds and mounds of gauzy fabric, swallowed her petite frame. It was gold in color, strapless and floor length, but the skirt was nearly double the width of even Lorna's dress, keeping people a good five feet away from her on all sides. The bodice was sharply structural, coming to long triangular points that stuck out and above her collarbone. Attached to the back were broad translucent wings reminiscent of her Avengers' costume. It was garish and ugly to Remy, and he had been to enough Paris couture shows to be well-versed in edgy fashion.

He swallowed hard. _Janet being here don't mean the whole Unity Squad is here_. She was a very publicly recognized figure and she was considered a fashionista. Of course she would be here. It didn't mean Anna was here. A cold feeling crept up his chest. He and Anna were friends now, but they'd never been good at that. The woman was the absolute love of his life, and he had let her go, hoping, stupidly, that she would realize how much she loved him. It had backfired spectacularly so far, and the two were barely on speaking terms. If he were honest with himself, it hurt too much to be near her when they weren't together, and he had purposefully kept his distance to spare himself the torture of being unable to take her into his arms. _She probably isn't even here._ Knowing the idiots that ran the Avengers, they probably sidelined her after her little public…incident…to keep her out of sight.

He steered clear of Janet, not that he was sure she even knew who he was. He sucked in a sharp breath as he passed her. Remy had almost convinced himself that the Unity Squad wouldn't be here. The incident, as he had taken to calling it, had been a recent press conference to introduce the Unity Squad, the newest Avengers' team, to the public. Mixing mutants and super-powered humans, the hope had been to bridge an otherwise shaky gap. The group's first showing had been a miserable failure from a public relations' standpoint. Their leader Alex Summers, the sometimes X-Man Havok, had delivered a cringe worthy speech on mutant kind which had been bad enough, but Anna Raven, Rogue, his ex-girlfriend and newly christened Avenger, had accidentally murdered a supervillain on camera. The tragedy had hardly endeared the mixed squad of Avengers and X-Men to the normals.

Remy had given Anna a wide berth since their most recent breakup. She had helped him out with some personal business a few months ago, but the last time he had seen her was...his heart sank and he stopped walking. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen her or talked to her. His stomach twisted with guilt. He almost hoped she wouldn't be here so he wouldn't have to deal with the way his guts churned around her. He loved her, and he wanted her back, but they had always made such a big mess of things…he ran a nervous hand through his hair. _Damn, it would be nice to see her pretty face._ He saw it often enough in his dreams, be nice to see it in person. _And that ass…_

"Keep it in your pants, Cajun." A familiar rumble, like a throat full of gravel, roared next to Remy. "I just got her calmed down. Don't need you riling her up again." Logan. Remy turned to greet his friend and sometime teammate, but started in surprise. He whistled low and looked the Wolverine up and down, waggling his eyebrows. "Hey!" Logan snapped, his trademark scowl on his brow. "Eyes up here, LeBeau. This ain't some free-for-all."

"Just paying you a compliment, mon ami. Didn't know you cleaned up so well." Remy meant every word, even though it earned him a snort from his burly companion. It's not like it was the first time Remy had seen Logan in a tuxedo, there had been enough weddings, formals, and funerals being a part of the X-Men that one could hardly avoid getting dressed up at some point. This was different. Before, Logan always looked so damn uncomfortable, like someone had shoved him into a suit two sizes too small. The man had to be a bitch to dress. He was short, like, five three, and was about three hundred fifty pounds of solid muscle over adamantium laced bones. Whoever the Avengers' tailor was had done a masterful job. The dark tuxedo, crafted of a very rich looking fabric, fit Logan like a glove. His friend's usual feral hairstyle was combed back from his face and… _Hot Damn!_ He had shaved off his sideburns! Remy always thought he couldn't shave them, like the muttonchops were part of Logan's mutant powers or something. Classy as always, the Wolverine was drinking a Molson beer directly from the can. _Oh well, 'A' for effort._ If Remy ran into Pepper Potts again, he'd have to ask for the number of the Avengers' stylist.

"How much beer did they bribe you with to get you to come to this thing?" Remy asked, gesturing to the can.

Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Stark made a donation to the school. Besides, they made your girlfriend come and she threw a tantrum, said she wouldn't come unless I did." He took a long sip of his beer.

Inwardly, Remy's guts clenched and twisted. "So Rogue's here?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

Lowering his beer and glaring at him, Logan laughed a short, harsh laugh. "Course she is. You think Stark would miss out on the opportunity to pimp her out to New York's rich and famous? She's one of the hottest pieces of ass on the damn team. That really opens up the checkbooks." He shook his head and pursed his lips until they were a thin white line. Remy worried Logan was going to squeeze his brew so hard it would crumple. "Tried to talk them out of it. Last thing she needs is to be paraded around like some show pony. What the girl needs is a break. She's not acting like herself. Things have been real hard on her lately. She took Chuck's death a lot worse than I originally thought. There have been some real fucked up things going on…" Logan grimaced, shifted his feet uncomfortably and moved his eyes around the room. "Not that she makes it any easier. So goddamn stubborn and disagreeable all the time, picking fights with everyone." He waved his drink in the direction of the full service bar. "Needless to say, I got overruled. But tell her if she doesn't start behaving herself, I'll drag her out of here and back to Westchester before she knows what hit her." He slapped Remy's shoulder a little harder than necessary. "Watch her," he said as he walked away, leaving Remy rubbing his surely bruised skin.

"She's not my girlfriend," Remy mumbled belatedly after the vanishing Wolverine. _Well, shit,_ Remy thought. She was here and now that he had ran into Logan he couldn't try to avoid her all night without looking like a total asshole who was trying to avoid her. The guilt crept up his throat on the bubbles of champagne. _She was having a hard time_. He exhaled loudly and closed his eyes. When he had last seen her, Anna had spent a lot of time trying to talk him into joining her in the Avengers, going on about how great it was and how he would absolutely love it and how much fun they would have together. She had apparently been trying to sell it too hard. Remy looked up towards the bar. It was so thick with people that it was hard to see exactly who was standing there, but he assumed she was in that general direction from Logan's beer can wave.

If she was having a hard time, why didn't she call him? Charles's death had been devastating to all of the X-Men, they were family, for some, the only family they had known, and despite everything, the Professor was the patriarch that had brought them together. Remy should have known she was tore up about Xavier's passing. _Passing? Murder?_ He still wasn't sure himself how he saw it. Professor Charles Xavier, mentor and friend, had been killed by Scott Summers, his first and best student. Scott was a man Remy maybe didn't like personally, but had learned to love as part of his extended family and team. At the time, Scott had been out of his mind, consumed in the flames of the cosmic force known as the Phoenix. Xavier had been in the way of the Phoenix, as simple and as complicated as that. The X-Men would probably, sadly, never recover from the loss of their teacher. Professor Xavier had saved Rogue from a life of crime and hardship, bordering on what Remy saw as abuse at the hands of her maniacal stepmother Mystique, by allowing her sanctuary in his home despite the protests of the team at the time. That act of kindness had completely changed the trajectory of the girl's life. Charles Xavier had made her a hero. Remy steeled himself for a fight he hoped wouldn't come, stood a little straighter, and set off to find Anna.

He expertly wove through the crowd and spied his prize. She was standing at the bar with her back to him, staring a little too intently at her drink. She was dressed in a floor-length black dress, her hair long, loose curls with the sides swept back and clipped away from her face. The white stripe danced among the auburn waves and trailed to the center of her bare back.

She heard his approach and glanced over her shoulder. "Hello, Remy," she said softly as he walked towards her. She turned, drink in hand and Remy's greeting caught in his throat.

The woman always took his breath away, but tonight was special. Where nearly every woman in the room was intentionally over-the-top, his ex-girlfriend was understated elegance, no superhero traces required. The strapless dress had a sweetheart neckline that tastefully framed her ample cleavage and long, graceful neck. The black silk skirt of the gown fell perfectly to the floor, accentuating every curve as if made for her. Her ivory skin contrasted exquisitely with the inky fabric, and as she turned, a slit in the dress revealed a long creamy leg that Remy's eyes followed up to scandalous heights. Emerald earrings, each the size of a small plum, dangled from her ears and were the only jewelry she wore, the color a perfect match to the color of her own eyes. He'd never been prouder that she had been his, had never seen her more beautiful. He fought the urge to sweep her into his arms and run a hand up that leg…

Composing himself, he stood next to her. "Next round on me?" He smiled and leaned towards her, resting his elbows on the polished mahogany bar.

She raised her glass and downed the amber liquid in one swallow. "Next round on Tony, sugar. Open bar."

"Even better," he returned, his unique red on black eyes glinting mischievously. "What are you drinking?"

Rogue furrowed her brow and looked at her empty glass. "Whiskey, I think."

Remy blinked a few times and looked at his gorgeous companion a little closer. He had been so lost in how beautiful she looked tonight that he hadn't noticed her speech was a little…off. Logan had been right to think she wasn't acting like herself. "You think?" he asked incredulously. "You don't know what you're drinking?" If he didn't know her better, she sounded drunk. He had never actually seen her drunk. Sure, she had been nigh invulnerable for most of their relationship, which tended to put a damper on any toxic substances except those consumed in vast quantities, but even after she lost those powers she just wasn't a drinker. _Oh come on_ , Remy thought. _Logan put the thought in your head and now you're thinking because of Charles's death she's a big stinking drunk? Get a grip._

She smiled devilishly and raised two fingers at the bartender. The young man, buff and tan with a head of thick black hair, nodded at Rogue, but eyed Remy warily, apparently miffed at the newcomer for butting in on his territory. Rogue could be as incorrigible of a flirt as Remy, and he pitied any man caught in her wake. "It's his fault," she chided as the server placed two drinks in front of them. "I told him something strong, something good, and to keep them coming."

Remy sniffed the glass. "What ARE we drinking?" He raised an eyebrow at the bartender.

"Macallan. 1926." The bartender smiled icily through gritted teeth.

Remy's eyes bulged from his head. "Macallan 1926? Are you kidding me!?"

"Cheers, sugar." Rogue kicked back the drink in a single swallow again.

"Anna! Are we supposed to be drinking this? This stuff is like seventy-five grand a bottle!" Remy held the glass up to the light carefully, admiring the dark brown liquor. _Why does a recovering alcoholic have the best of the best booze?_

She leaned towards him. "Open bar is open bar. S'not like I stole it from his stash. You know on a night like this an egomaniac like Stark likes to show off the goods." She ran a hand along her neck and Remy's eyes followed it hungrily in spite of himself. "These earrings? From his private collection. Got to make a good impression," she said bitterly.

Reaching out, he laid a hand over hers. "They're only half as beautiful as your eyes, Anna." Remy reveled in the simple feeling of her skin under his, at the chance to banter with her, to be in each other's presence. Their last breakup had sort of been his idea, even though it hadn't really been what he wanted. He had been anxious for the chance to convince her, and himself, that it had been a mistake. Time stopped for a few heartbeats as they held each other's gaze. Rogue broke eye contact first and pulled back, motioning to the bartender for another. "Anna, take it easy, chere." Remy kept his voice low.

She scowled and avoided his gaze. She set her jaw, but looked like she was fighting tears. "What?" she replied thickly, "You, too? Afraid I can't control myself?" She raised the new drink to slam it back, but Remy placed his hand on her wrist to stop her. Her eyes flashed at him, and she tried to twist from his strong grip.

Remy was ready to make a biting, smart ass remark, but stopped himself. The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene and embarrass her. "Let's take a walk, chere." He grabbed her drink with his other hand and set it back on the bar. He kept ahold of her wrist, tucking it underneath his arm, and started to weave them back through the crowd. She refused to look at him, but he could see her blazing green eyes staring straight ahead, her jaw stubbornly clenched while she continued to try to pull her hand away. "Stop it," he hissed and held her tight.

The lobby was too public for the conversation he wanted to have with her. A bank of elevators was guarded by security officers, and the outside entrance still looked like an Oscar's pre-show. If Stark had been serious and security was watching him, they would soon find out. He pulled them down a less crowded corridor, Rogue's heels clicking furiously on the glistening marble floor. They wound through a maze of passages and came upon a single elevator near a surprisingly empty security station. Remy punched the up button and practically shoved her inside. The roof sprang to mind, and he jabbed the button with the highest number. From the digits, they would have a few minutes' ride.

A computerized voice that sounded remarkably like Pepper Potts flooded the elevator. _"Security clearance required for the selected floor. Authorized personnel only."_

Rolling his eyes, Remy ran his fingers over the elevator panel, hoping to pop it open and hot wire the damn thing. He had purposely left most of his working tools at home out of respect for his host, but he did have his trusty set of lock picks hidden in a place always missed in your standard pat down. _Never leave home without them_ , he thought wryly as he pulled the small pouch out and laid it open on his left hand.

"Oh, Jesus H. Christ…" Rogue muttered and elbowed him aside. She placed her palm on a touchscreen aligned next to the panel of buttons. A light pulsed under her hand.

 _"Identity: Rogue. Access granted."_

Remy smiled sheepishly as she folded her arms, leaned back against the elevator and looked away from him. The futuristic interior of the elevator reminded Remy of a Shi'ar battlecruiser, the glossy walls were composed of polished foreign metal alternating with banks of lights. The styling wasn't anything like the entrance or ballroom. This was utility, technical. He leaned back next to Rogue, their shoulders touching.

She was pouting. He usually loved when she pouted, all puffy lips and scrunched eyebrows, but there was a low simmering anger emanating from her that he hadn't seen in a long time, and he found it troubling. "Thought we were taking a walk," she said and scooted away from him so she wasn't touching him anymore.

"Going up to the roof. You looked like you need some fresh air." He scooted towards her until his shoulder touched hers again. He felt her try to move away further, but she ran herself into the corner of the elevator. _Nowhere to go now, chere_ , he thought.

There was a thickness in her voice, from sadness or from the whiskey, Remy couldn't tell which. "I wish people would stop telling me what I need." She moved forward to try and squirm out of the corner and away from him, but Remy was quicker than she was. He spun and trapped her between his outstretched arms and the elevator walls, their chests touching. The look in Anna's eyes was absolutely murderous, and Remy tried to remember how dangerous she could be, but it was hard, _really_ hard to ignore what her deep breaths were doing to her breasts heaving against him.

His arms surrounded her like bars in a cage. "What do you think you need? Another drink? Don't really think that's the answer, chere. May feel good, real good right now to numb the pain, drown it all to make it go away." Her eyes flicked away from his, but he kept talking. "But, I guarantee that is not what you need. The Anna I know would be real disappointed in herself if she jeopardized this fancy new job she got…"

"You think I give a shit about this job?" she hissed angrily.

Remy was taken slightly aback. "Yeah. I do. Me, Logan, everyone, we've never been so damn proud of you. Mutant girl makes good, playing in the big leagues." He lowered his face to try to make her look at him.

"Logan needs to mind his own damn business."

"Chere, you are his business. The man is worried about you, said you're having a real hard time." Remy dropped an arm and grabbed her chin to force her to look in his eyes. "I thought he was just being his usual paranoid self, but then I find you downing whiskey like there's no tomorrow. I mean damn, I know it's an open bar girl, but you would have been on the floor if I hadn't pulled you out of there. Is that really what you need?"

Her eyes flashed at him and she raised one perfectly arched eyebrow at him. "So, Logan told you to come check up on me. Figures. Did Captain Buzzkill also tell you that he already dressed me down for drinking too much, and made me absorb his healing factor?" There was the angry pout again.

Remy blinked a couple of times. "Wait, what?" He shook his head and tried to hide the small smile that crept onto his face. It wasn't a good idea to provoke a pissed off Rogue.

"Don't you dare laugh at me, Remy LeBeau! I was propped up at the bar, doing my best to ignore all the rich idiot's that were coming up and hitting on me…Y'know, for a charity event, Tony's little party has a creepy swinger vibe going which I am so not into…I was having a little too much champagne with that gorgeous hunk of beefcake behind the bar, and I guess somebody ratted me out to Tony that I wasn't working the donors or something, because Papa Logan had to come over and lecture me…" Remy stepped back slightly, and Rogue crossed her arms under her breasts in irritation.

The smile kept creeping back on his face despite his best efforts to wipe it away. "He made you absorb his healing factor? You're not drunk?" If he started laughing, she was probably going to knee him in the groin.

"Stone cold sober. He lectured me like I was some damn teenager caught after curfew! I couldn't get drunk right now if I tried, at least not for a couple of hours. Figured I'd stick it to Tony by cleaning out his bar a little in the meantime…" He couldn't hold it in any longer as the pent up laughter spilled out of him. The scowl lifted from Rogue's face, and she started laughing, too. "I guess it is pretty ridiculous. I was kind of acting like an ass…"

Remy had to wipe tears from his eyes as he imagined Logan and Tony Stark giving lessons on discipline. With effort he brought himself under control and leaned in close to her again. "I agree it sounds pretty ridiculous, but this is more than just tonight. I can tell you're angry, petite. Logan said you've been dealing with some pretty crazy things. You know you can talk to me about anything. This party downstairs isn't my thing either. We're almost to the roof, why don't we relax a little, enjoy each other's company and have a little talk…"

She opened her mouth as if to argue, but the overhead lights flickered. Remy stared into her startled face, and the elevator groaned and screeched, metal on metal. He grabbed her and pulled her down into the corner and shielded her with his arm while the car shook violently.

"What the hell?" Rogue started, but the elevator shimmied fiercely, and Remy winced when she dug her fingers into his upper arms. The lights ceased their disco strobe and died, leaving them bathed in the red cast of the emergency beacons. Their eyes met in a confused heartbeat, and Remy smiled lopsidedly, hoping to ease the tension.

"Maybe we should…" the thought died on his lips when the sliding doors flew apart in a burst of sizzling energy, flaming metal shrapnel barely missing his head.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Last chapter! (I did say it was short.) Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed yourselves! Like a lot of you, I've been very frustrated with most of the story-lines that have involved Rogue and Gambit over the last few years (the rare exceptions being Wood's initial run on the all female X-Men, Gambit's solo series, and some of All New X-Factor) so I decided to make up my own stories to share with anybody who cared to read them. Glad they are finding a happy audience. Thanks again!

 **Chapter Two**

"Look out!" Rogue yanked him down and on top of her a split second before the blast blew a matching hole in the backside of the car, the small space filling with smoke. Remy wanted to take the time to admire the view of her underneath him, the feel of their bodies twisted together, but Rogue shoved him, rolling them to the other side of the elevator. "Move!" she hissed into his ear, catching its lobe between her teeth and lips, pulling his powers as she did, and slipping her hands into the inner pocket of his tuxedo jacket where he kept his spare playing cards. Remy rolled to a fighting stance and strained his eyes in the clearing smoke.

To Remy's surprise, the gleaming red and gold armor of Tony Stark's alter ego Iron Man filled the tattered void of the elevator's doors, raising his hands and attacking again, the couple dodging his flares.

"You're sure not bein' a good host, sugar," Rogue scolded from behind Gambit. "What bug crawled in your shorts?" When Stark took aim again, she charged a card with her borrowed powers, and when thrown, the projectile detonated against Iron Man with the force of a small bomb, sending him hurtling backwards through the broken doors in a shower of sparks. "We gotta get out of here. There's no way that's gonna stop him for long. We got no room to maneuver in here, and if he's all riled up…" She shook her head, and Remy helped her to her feet. He jumped in the air and popped open the ceiling hatch with his fingertips.

"Next floor, men's suits and women's lingerie," he laced his fingers and offered Rogue a boost, but she rolled her eyes, kicked off her heels, and, grasping the hem of her gown, jumped, bouncing off the nearest wall into the exit in the ceiling. Shimmying up and out of the hole, her escape gave Remy a sneaky flash of mile long leg ending in lacy black panties.

"Mon dieu," he stared, dumbfounded, but heard the electronic lurching of Iron Man's components coming back online. Rogue's head, surrounded by the halo of her white and auburn hair, appeared in the hatch.

"You need a hand, sugar?" she teased. Remy hurriedly shooed her out of the way and scrambled up after her. She helped him to stand on the creaking platform. "What did you steal from Tony this time?" she questioned. Remy scowled and took a look around the dimly lit elevator shaft. A rim of steel I-beams announced each successive floor, the doors of which were barely visible in the near darkness. The thick cables rising from the middle of the car continued their journey skyward, disappearing into inky blackness just out of view.

"Nothing!" he cried defensively. "Lately…" his mumble was drowned out by another volley from inside the elevator, the blasts ripping through the ceiling hatch, doubling it in size. Without a word between them, Rogue and Gambit allowed years of teamwork to take over, muscles controlled by instinct, fluid motion over conscious thought, they unleashed dueling barrages of charged cards, eluding blasts from the outstretched hands of Iron Man as he rose through the hole he had widened and continued to strafe them from the air.

"Tony!" Rogue jumped to the corner of the shaft closest to her Avengers' teammate and dangled from her arm, hooked on the ledge of the I-beam. "I don't know what your problem is, what you think Gambit has done, but this has gone too far!" With no response, Stark turned his attention to her and shot twin lasers her direction. She jumped, Remy thankful she had absorbed his agility along with his kinetic converting powers, the discharges narrowly missing her before she managed to reach the next layer of beams and huddle in the space before the doors to the subsequent floor. Remy leapt from his own perch and, using the heavy cables as pivots, spun around the backside of the technological marvel, peppering Stark with a barrage of cards that staggered the construct and dropped him to the roof of the elevator car. Stark whirled after Remy, blitzing the shaft with laser fire, clipping the cables as the beams passed them by.

 _Oh, fuck_ , Remy thought and jumped away from the car. Stark, in his fancy suit, would survive an eighty story fall. Remy would not.

"Up here, Cajun!" Rogue screamed. A sliver of light split the doors of the next level where she had managed to pry them apart.

"Great party, M'Sieu Stark," Remy said a silent prayer and aimed matching charges, one for the remaining cables, one for the thrusters of Iron Man's suit. Both hit true and the car dropped like a stone, the sputtering Stark-suit stranded on the roof, still sending raging laser blasts towards them as he fell.

Together, Remy and Rogue heaved open the doors and fell through them onto the dull geometric pattern of office building carpet. Remy forced the sliding doors closed and leaned breathlessly against the panel. His eyes found Rogue, the hem of her dress in her hands, her face screwed into a determined scowl.

"Anything I can help you with, chere?" he sashayed towards her.

"Evening gowns ain't made for running, and if this ain't over…" she answered and attempted to rip the material. _Shame_ , Remy thought, _such a beautiful dress_. He touched her wrist gently.

"Let me," he murmured and knelt in front of her, his eyes paying worship to the creamy swath of skin highlighted against the dark fabric. "How short you want it?" His fingers trailed the edge of the silk up the length of her thigh, delighting in the goosebumps his touch left in its wake.

"Remy…" he smiled wickedly at the catch in her voice. "You want to tell me what that was all about?" She swallowed and forced business back into her voice and Remy set about his, laying a feather light charge to some of the threads woven into the folds of the fabric, enough for a section of the skirt to fall to the floor as neatly as being clipped by scissors.

"What was _what_ about?" Rogue kicked the skirt remnant to the side and loomed over the kneeling Remy with her hands on her hips.

"Don't play dumb with me, sugar." Remy stood and faced her, his temper rising. "Why are you here?"

"For your information, I have an invitation." He crossed his arms, irritated at her implications. "Came here for the party, same as you."

Rogue snorted. "Right. And you had no other reason for coming to billionaire industrialist Tony Stark's soiree? No ulterior motive?"

 _Just to see you_ , was what he wanted to say, it was the truth, but the naked, raw, painful truth had always been so hard for him to give her. Logan was right, she was so angry, angry at him, angry at the world. If she would let him, he would help her forget it all, but at the moment his temper got the best of him. "Why you always gotta think the worst..?" his voice rose, but he choked on his anger when he caught sight of Iron Man in the hallway over Rogue's shoulder, moving their way, fast. _He_ grabbed _her_ this time, and whirled her around a corner, shielding her body with his. "I swear," he whispered forcefully into her ear, their hearts pounding against each other, "things are square with me and Stark." She nodded sharply.

"On three?" she whispered back. He kissed her forehead, and three counts later they flung themselves from their hiding place, Remy high, Rogue low, cards flying from their outstretched fingers and hitting their mark with a magenta hued burst that knocked Iron Man to his knees. Rogue landed with an inelegant thud and Remy hauled her to her feet.

"Run!" he yelled and they sprinted down the corridor, the hall lined with the wooden doors and glass walls common to every modern office building. _Lousy cover_. They needed to find a good place to hide until they could get this sorted out, whatever the hell Stark's problem was with him this time, or barring that, they needed to stop Stark, permanently. "Your new boss be mighty persistent, chere!" he puffed as they rounded another corner. Rogue skidded to a stop.

"Different suit…" she murmured, her green eyes wide and confused.

"Let's go, Anna, he comin'!" Remy tugged insistently on her arm.

"But, it's a different suit!" she sputtered. They started running again, getting lost inside a maze of wood and glass, but after a handful of twists and turns, Rogue grabbed his elbow and forced him to his knees against the glass outer wall of a conference room, the darkened interior housing a massive table surrounded by rolling chairs.

"Anna…" A bewildered and breathless Remy was ready to yell at her when she reached deep into the bodice of her dress and produced a cell phone from the depths of her cleavage. His jaw dropped to the floor, but her jaw remained stubbornly set.

"It's a different suit," she hissed through clenched teeth. "It's not red and gold, like before, this one was red and _silver_." An exasperated Remy held up his hands in frustration.

"So he changed suits! Who cares? He's gonna kick our asses either way if we don't move ours first…" She held up a finger and an eyebrow to shush him, and put the phone to her ear. Remy huffed a deep angry breath and blew the air out through flared nostrils.

"Logan?" Anna whispered into her phone. "Is Stark nearby? Can you see him?" Remy frowned and tiled his head towards her, leaning close enough to hear, to smell her skin. Logan's voice rumbled from the small speaker.

"Sure is. Can taste his cologne from here. Where are you, anyway? I sent the Cajun after you." Rogue dropped her head against Remy's and sighed.

"He's with me, we're upstairs, we…" The glass of the conference room exploded in a crystal wash of blaster fire. Rogue screamed, and Remy did his best to protect them both from the jagged projectiles, catching a glimpse of the decidedly red and silver suit shooting through the other side of the conference room. He threw the barefoot Rogue over his shoulder. _Yippee Ki-ya…_

"Stark's not in the suits!" she crowed from his backside, charging cards and throwing them at their assailant, driving it back. "Just like when the Avengers attacked the school! They're empties!" Remy grabbed ahold of an office chair and concentrated, charging the chair, shoving it towards the autonomous armor. They made a break for it.

"Remy!" Rogue shrieked, but they ducked into an alcove just as the blast detonated, the heat and debris enveloping the hallway next to them.

"Any chance that stopped it?" he asked breathlessly, but instead of answering Rogue kissed his lips, pulling a bit more power.

"You sure know how to show a lady a good time," she smiled, her eyes sparkling. He stepped back slightly and read the nameplate on the heavy looking door, the walls surrounding it solid, devoid of the glass decorations of the other offices.

"P. Potts." He smirked. "Seems like a pretty good place to hide, chere. If anywhere gonna be built like a bomb shelter…" She poked her head cautiously around the edge of the wall.

"It's also gonna have the best security, sugar."

"Pish posh, Anna," he cracked his knuckles and pulled out his lock picks again. "Just watch me work."

She chuckled warmly. "Just do your thing, Cajun. I'll watch our _backs_." He was sweating by the time the last tumbler clicked into place, the lock more challenging than he was willing to admit, expecting poison darts or a trap door to open underneath his feet as he slowly stepped into the large, airy space. Rogue followed, and, taking careful quiet steps, she moved to the desk and turned on the lamp. The room was massive, the decor much like the woman who worked there, simple, understated chic. Remy closed the door and locked it again, jamming a nearby chair under the handle, turning to take in the sight of Anna highlighted against the floor to ceiling windows, the Manhattan skyline at night laid out twinkling before them.

"Better call for help, I guess, let someone know what's going on." She turned and grimaced.

"Dropped my phone," she wrinkled her nose. "Pretty sure I remember Logan's number." They moved to the desk and Rogue picked up the surprisingly low-tech, multi-line phone perched on the corner.

"That's sort of unimpressive for the CEO of the world's leading technology firm. Do you have to dial nine first?" he kidded, pacing slow circles while Rogue rang for the cavalry.

"I'll put him on speaker," she regarded Remy, Logan answering on the first ring.

"What the hell's going on, darlin'?" their burly teammate growled. "Fire alarms are goin off in the building, you're nowhere to be found. We gotta evacuate the civilians and Stark is screamin' about some security breach…"

"Not really sure what's happenin', sugar, was hoping you could tell us." The muffled sounds of a panicked crowd in the background threatened to drown out Logan's voice, but Stark's cut in.

"You're calling from Pepper's office." The billionaire didn't ask, he told, barely taking a breath. Remy walked back to Rogue and leaned over the phone, and she raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

"Yeah," she said slowly, "how did you…?"

"The building's sensors are showing you there, Gambit, too." Stark hissed through the speaker. "Well, that explains it. I thought I told you not to go within fifty feet of my lab, LeBeau?"

"I didn't!" Remy raised his hands defensively. "I swear! We were just takin' a ride in the elevator!"

"To what floor?" Tony's growl could have matched Wolverine's in that moment. A usually unflappable Remy sputtered.

"The roof! Technically, not even a floor…"

"The _elevator_ , on its way to the _roof_ , passes through the floor housing the _laboratory_ , genius," Stark retorted hotly. Rogue glared at the phone.

"What are you dancin' around, Stark? Why would it matter if Remy got close to your lab?" Remy sat on the corner of Pepper's desk as the realization dawned on him.

"The new security system, eh, M'sieu Stark?" He shook his head ruefully and Rogue continued to stare daggers into the phone.

"What's he talking about, Tony?" Rogue demanded.

"The new security system I installed, it uses spare suits as a last resort to protect the lab. They're only activated when the main computer senses the bio-signature of anyone flagged as…hostile… within a given range."

"Hostile." The word from Rogue was calm, but laced with a murderous rage barely contained, Tony giving it right back to her.

"Your boyfriend broke into my lab. He _stole_ from me. Forgive me if I don't believe him when he says he won't do it again. Be thankful I let him come in the building at all."

"That was to save a friend!" Remy protested. "You said you understood, that there were no hard feelings, now I find I'm on your most wanted list? Don't know whether to be angry or flattered, mon ami." Logan's cigar-carved voice ripped down the line.

"We'll settle this shit later. Can you shut it down, Stark?"

Tony sighed. "Yeah, but it'll take me a few minutes, some of the building's internal communications will have to be rerouted thanks to the firefight. Getting near the lab is what triggered the system, dammit, you would have been fine if you would have stayed where I told you to! Pepper's office is pretty heavily shielded, but once the suits have your scent…" Something heavy struck the door and wall, rattling Remy's teeth with a concussive boom.

"We got company!" Rogue roared into the phone.

"We'll get to you as soon as we can, 'til then, sit tight!" Logan barked, the sizzling sound of blasters rippling the door, threatening to melt it from its reinforced hinges.

"Best hurry!" Remy stepped into the middle of the large space, looking for any tactical advantage. He had hoped the room would hold off any attackers, that Stark would have outfitted his lady's office to withstand an army, but if the onslaught beating on the door was any indication, they were running out of time with nowhere else to hide. His eyes found Rogue, by the window again, running her hands along the thick glass.

"Too bad I still can't fly, sugar," she said softly, her voice nearly drowned out by the cacophony caused by the roving robotic enforcer. He crossed the room in a few long-legged strides and turned her to face him. Wrapping her in his arms, his lips found hers, her hands twining sinuously into his tousled hair, their hearts pounding against each other. A different pounding, of the world around them, snapped them both back to reality, the reinforced wood of the doors quaking ominously. They parted, breathless. "Nowhere else to run, Remy." He smiled sadly. If she got hurt because of him, he'd never forgive himself. "It's got us cold."

"There's a ledge under that window, and a balcony one floor down, one floor over…" Rogue bit her lip and cast a glance where he pointed. "I could blow the glass...if we could get to it, then get back in the building on another floor…" The room thundered and shook with the construct's fury. _They ain't gonna get to us before that thing gets in here,_ he thought ruefully, _and we can't fight it much longer. No choice._ Much to his chagrin, Rogue nodded her agreement.

"This is a terrible idea…" he shook his head and spread his fingers along the glass, tracing a circular charge across the glossy surface, hoping to slice a hole big enough for them to climb through, hoping he could keep it in one piece to avoid any people on the streets below, hoping they could keep their balance ninety stories up… "Get ready," he grunted, the fine control required sending spasms through his body. The circle cut, he kept his fingers lightly charged and pulled it free, the glass clinging to the kinetic energy radiating from his body. "Go!" he yelled at Rogue, who scurried through the opening onto the precarious ledge, the rush of air from the outside whipping her hair into a frothy cloud. A new suit of armor, this one red and blue, came crashing through the door. Remy Frisbee-d the charged circle of glass at the assailant, using the distraction to slip through the opening himself. Rogue was crawling forward on her hands and knees, Remy following hot on her heels.

"Now what, Cajun? This was your plan!" The rest of the window exploded behind them in a deluge of fragmented glass, the armor soaring outward into the night sky, hovering malevolently above them. Remy froze, his back pressed against the cold steel of the tower's outer wall. Rogue's fingers grabbed for his. "Last card. I'm all out of ammo." She had a single charged card ready in her other hand. "Last ride, sugar?" The empty iron shell took careful aim.

"Then we take it together," Remy answered, his stomach twisting as he pulled his own final card from the pocket of his tattered tuxedo jacket. They threw, the armor fired, the explosions meeting and combining somewhere in the middle, the shockwave knocking the machine backwards and crumbling the ledge beneath Rogue, sending her hurtling forward. Remy clawed frantically for her, her fingers slipping from his grip. Her face frozen in mute terror, she fell.

"NO!" Without time for conscious thought or action, he screamed and flung himself from the ledge, chasing her freefall through the sky.

"Remy!" she sobbed as he reached her, their arms wrapping around one another. Seconds was all they had left, their lips meeting in a feverish crush. So much left unsaid, so much left undone, but he would not live without her, regretting a great many things in life, but not following her this final time…

Remy's body lurched from the impact, but not the one he had expected. He opened his eyes tentatively, stunned to find the pair floating safely in mid-air.

"Geez, not melodramatic or anything, you two." He pulled his lips from a wide-eyed Rogue and turned to find Lorna, her crimson dress fanning out around her, her magnetic powers carrying her and the dazed duo slowly to the ground. The red and blue suit followed them, docile courtesy of Polaris's magnetic manipulations. "What the hell were you thinking?!" his teammate scolded when they landed. He and Rogue clutched each other desperately, shaking, barely stopping each other from dropping to their knees. Remy swallowed thickly.

"I knew you had my back, boss." He winked at Lorna, but she just rolled her eyes. Remy put on his serious face. "Thank you, Lorna. I can't ever repay you for this." Lorna nodded and smiled slyly at the reunited pair.

"I'll think of something," she teased. Logan shoved his way through the small crowd that had gathered on the street.

"Stark's got that crap shut down, rest of the heroes are busy watching civilians thanks to all the trouble you caused. Thought I told you to stay put?" he growled, patting them both over to check for any injuries. Remy kissed the top of Rogue's head and held her close.

"Stay put, mon ami?" He inclined his head and caught sight of Rogue's green eyes, shiny with unshed tears. "You got it, bub." He dipped her back and moved in to kiss her, but she put a hand between their lips, her eyebrows drawn together in another angry scowl.

"You jumped," she whispered hoarsely. He kissed the palm of her hand and leaned into it.

"Oui."

"Why did you do that? I wouldn't have wanted you to die…" His red on black eyes burned into her. They had a lot to talk about, had a long way to go, but the truth was as good of place to start as any.

"Told you a long time ago, Anna, life ain't worth living without you in it…"

She dropped her hand to his lapel and pulled him closer, their lips saying more than their words ever could.

 **The End**


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